


Torchwood Archive S-221: The Arsenal

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Supernatural, Superwho - Fandom, Superwood - Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Chains, Handcuffs, M/M, Rimming, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:26:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How <i>does</i> one tie up an angel? Jack's gone above and beyond the call of duty to work out a creative solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torchwood Archive S-221: The Arsenal

Jack could see the strain in Castiel's body as he struggled against the cuffs. Jack had stripped him of his shirt before chaining him to the pillar. Muscle coiled and uncoiled beneath his skin, sliding until Jack's fingertips twitched towards him of their own volition.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and raised his chin. "I wouldn't do that."

"That would be a first," Castiel said to the concrete at his cheek.

Jack chuckled. "So, how does it feel?" He asked.

Castiel tested the restraints again, briefly. One of the halogen lights overloaded with a shower of glowing molten glass. "Confining."

"Good?" Jack pressed, tasting the word with a warm ripple of arousal. He waited, watching Castiel, still enjoying the curves of shoulders, ass and bare back. Waited while Castiel ran a full diagnostic - Jack knew the silence for what it was.

"Yes, Castiel answered, lower than before. As if he'd unclenched a muscle; settled deeper into himself somehow. Jack peeled back the cover on his wrist strap and pressed a button. Somewhere in the dark an electric motor whined to life, and Castiel's arms winched a little tighter to the column with a rattle of chain.

Castiel groaned.

"Still good?" Jack asked, when the pulley halted. He watched with satisfaction as Castiel's hips rolled against the cool concrete. It might be warm there by now, Jack thought, or the cool might be bleeding through Castiel's trousers.

"Better." Castiel enunciated carefully, growling now.

"You want it tighter?"

"This is enough, Jack."

"All right." And Jack stripped out of his own shirt. "What do you feel?"

Another pause. "Cold. The column's strength. Your footsteps. Pressure on my wrists."

Leaning forward, Jack brushed a line of kisses up Castiel's spine, tongue tip flicking hot between his lips. "Nothing else?" He asked teasingly at the top.

"Hungry," Castiel rasped, then seized up, "vulnerable. Is the base secure?"

"Locked down," Jack reassured. He leaned into Castiel's view. "Vulnerable. That is what you wanted, right? But the base is as safe as we can make it, without you."

Castiel breathed in, out, and tested the cuffs again. "Did you inform the team?" The metal skidded a little on the column despite the tightly winched chain, "About this."

Jack couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. "About this _really_ hot prisoner fetish of yours?" His voice softened. "No. This is just ours, Castiel, and whoever you decide to share it with later."

Castiel exhaled in a sigh. Jack stepped closer, until he could slide his hand across the stretched shoulders and arms wrapped around the column. A shiver rolled across the cool flesh, like a horse. "You ready?" Jack murmured.

Castiel's cheek made a soft, papery sound against the column as he nodded. Jack kissed his shoulder; let his hands wander into riskier territory.

"You know it by now, don't you? How helpless you are," Jack asked, and kept on talking, the litany of suggestions a sibilant counterpoint to his fingers on Castiel's belt. His fingertips hooked into the loops, and Jack towed his hips flush to Castiel's round ass. "You know how much danger you're in." His body ground against Castiel's, pressure between them growing as the angel let out an open-mouthed cry. He was responsive in an almost touch-starved way, Jack thought, always so eager. Arching his back; pushing his body into the hands that held him.

"Tell me, Jack," Castiel demanded in a low drawl, "How much danger I am in."

Jack smiled, low and dark as an alley predator. He dipped his fingers into Castiel's waistband, stroking the tender vee of flesh above Castiel's cock. "Well, I _could_ kill you," Jack said, light as suggesting a film. He knew the flash point of the threat, knew death was a companion but never a beau for either of them, and there was as much arousal in the possibility as fear. His fingers pressed and slid apart, dragging on the skin; withdrew and returned, while he savored every soft grunt. Castiel's hips pushed into every down stroke, driving Jack's hands down to his cock, but all he received for his trouble was cold wall as Jack pulled away once more.

"Yes," Castiel breathed, dryly amused despite his panting, "I assume that isn't your intent."

"Hmm? No," Jack's left hand dove into Castiel's briefs, sliding the heat of his cock into the vee between middle and index fingers. He rubbed along the skin, just two fingers sliding lightly down warm flesh, tickling the thatch of curled hairs there with the rest of his hand. He could almost feel the curiosity licking under Castiel's skin. What would he do? Where would he go next? Would it hurt? Would Jack curl his hand around his cock and bring him over now? A strained, rusty sound tore from the angel's throat as Jack nudged deeper.

"Telling you would spoil the surprise, Castiel," Jack continued, "I'm not wasting the opportunity." He wedged Castiel's trousers and briefs below the bottom curve of his ass.

"The column is cold," Castiel observed with a hiss. Maybe complained. Hard to tell sometimes with him.

"Yeah, I bet it is," Jack agreed. Observation or complaint, he'd just have to deal. Jack pushed past an internal surge of elation at the words, however; voiced a moment later by Castiel himself.

"Jack, I'm _feeling_ cold," Castiel reported in an awed tone, "I'm not _trying_ to feel it."

"The cuffs are working like we hoped, then," Jack said. They were quiet together a moment or two, soaking in the potential of what they'd created together. Jack curved a warm palm to one of Castiel's buttocks, then, feeling the cold flesh take his heat and reflect it back.

"I could help with that cold," Jack purred, and pressed himself to Castiel's back once more. He slipped an insulating hand between Castiel's cock and the column, tsking with feigned displeasure at the temperature. Heat built rapidly between them, bleeding through Jack's trousers, roaring into the cup of his palm like the cries that echoed to the vaulted roof. Castiel was hard, writhing against his restraints, every bit of his body focused on the pleasure and the handcuffs holding him back. 

The lights went down another notch as one more lamp popped and died.

"Jack," Castiel growled, " **now**." Urgency raised and roughened his voice.

Jack panted right along with him, but grasped at composure before answering. "Manners, Castiel."

" _Please,_ " Castiel snapped, making profanity of the word.

"Not like that."

Castiel drew a deep breath beneath him. "Please," he said a little later, with a fragile measure of calm.

Jack pulled away with a smirk. He heard Castiel gasp as overheated skin connected with the column again. Celestial impatience was almost indistinguishable from rage. Jack didn't bother stifling his chuckle as Castiel slaughtered another light bulb. "I'm gonna make you replace those, you know," Jack said conversationally. He sauntered back to the counter along the wall, the movement highlighting sensation from his growing hard on.

"And _I'm_ going to _fuck_ you into the wall when you free me, Jack," Castiel snarled. Whoops. Hard on a little more highlighted. Jack grinned, back to his victim at the pillar, and inspected his arsenal.

 _Arse_ nal. Heh. A deep green phallus of silicone, at least a quarter inch more in diameter than Jack's own cock at its widest point. It looked like a dick - a stylized dick - and Jack wondered what Castiel might think of the various shapes, sizes and textures he'd encountered off world. "Maybe I'll leave you there until you're in a calmer frame of mind," Jack called over one shoulder.

"You can try," came the reply, low, backbuilding like an angry lion.

Sweeping up the lube with another shiver of anticipation, Jack returned to his prey. He knelt at Castiel's hip, setting both burdens on the floor, and leaned forward to spread Castiel's ass cheeks. The surprise pushed another cry out of Castiel, this one higher; wilder. Licking his lips, Jack rocked forward on the toes of his boots and pressed the flat of his tongue to Castiel's asshole.

The positive response he got from that brought concrete dust down from the ceiling. Jack abandoned the spot, lips and tongue wandering out until he felt Castiel tensing under his hands again. A hot second of absence for Castiel to anticipate, and then Jack dove in, licking in soft, lush strokes.

"Jack," Castiel moaned, wrecked, and again, the name a litany now that gained power with every push of Jack's tongue.

Jack stroked the slick crease of his ass and wormed his fingers between the tops of Castiel's thighs to cup his balls. "Can't do a thing to push me, Castiel," he murmured, harsh breaths of his own maybe robbing that statement of a little emphasis, "I've got you."

The lights flickered.

"I'm gonna spread you open," Jack warned, slicking up the vivid toy until it glistened, "fill you up good and tight. Nothing you can do to keep this outside of you." He nudged the slick tip of the oversized silicone cock at Castiel's opening, earning himself another heated groan.

"You'll pay for this," Castiel muttered. The words were rich with breath and lacking conviction.

Arousal clenching low in his gut from the sound of it, Jack nipped the curve of one cheek. "Counting on it, Feathers." He pushed, and whatever Castiel said next vanished into incoherency as the flared tip breached him.

Jack leaned forward, dropping a knee to the floor. His tongue flicked in around the stretched opening, washing heat across the damp skin. It was novel to see Castiel, penetrated up close, to add his tongue to the sensation of fullness Jack knew Castiel craved. Maybe they ought to invite another guy, next time they went hunting a third party for their play.

Maybe he ought to focus on _now_. Less than mindful of Castiel's increased sensitivity from the handcuffs' magic, he'd missed the growing urgency in his partner's motion. Castiel's cries had a regular rhythm now, speeding up out of control in time with Jack's shallow thrusts.

"Don't," Jack ordered, and slid out the toy. A strangled moan greeted him, muffled as if Castiel was kissing the pillar. A look up confirmed his suspicion - the angel mouthed the curve of concrete in desperation.

Jack got to his feet and put an arm around Castiel, waiting for the breath to calm and heat to cool. The muscles in Castiel's shoulders were overtaxed, all of the angel shivering. A twinge of concern surfaced, chased away by the reminder that as soon as the cuffs came off, he'd be fine. They'd done more damage to one another during last week's sparring. He traced soothing patterns across Castiel's shoulders and back, drawing invisible wings until Castiel's pulse - until _both_ their heartbeats - had slowed a little.

Then, with another generous slicing down, Jack pushed the toy inside. He played with the angle, with the speed, keeping the pace erratic until Castiel's groans hitched up and followed every thrust. They abruptly dropped as Jack aimed for his prostate and let the rhythm steady out. Shouts ground into snarls, but still Jack's name. Hard not to develop an ego over that. Harder still to hold back. All along heat had been pooling in Jack's belly like molten metal, pressure growing to an almost uncomfortable degree now as he thought about how Castiel would feel, sandwiched between him and the unforgiving concrete.

Jack let the toy drop to the floor, unshouldered his braces and shoved his own trousers down. It was a relief to lose the confining fabric, more of a relief to snug himself right back up again inside Castiel. Jack's puff of breath washed over Castiel's shoulder as his body made a slick welcome, already stretched to take him by the toy.

Jack's hand found a home between them, wrapped around Castiel's cock to keep him warm and protect as the thrusts grew more vicious. His knuckles rasped against the rock, warm from the press of Castiel's body. Castiel's snarls gained volume as the angle came completely unwound, and a rain of melted glass poured down around them. Release tumbled over both of them, although by then it was impossible to tell who'd found it first. 

Then Jack was pulling out, reaching for the wrist strap that never left his arm. Castiel shivered to hard that the chains clicked as the winch released him, but when Jack unlocked the cuffs, he abruptly stopped. Jack got him a blanket anyway and spent a few minutes under it with him, watching the angry purple lines from the cuffs vanish like clouds of cream in coffee. He felt languid, completely fucked out, and ready for a good long lounge in a nest of blankets. Or a pizza. He could really murder a pizza.

"I'm sorry about the lights," Castiel said, when he could speak again. He sounded lazy. Like the bulbs didn't matter but he thought an apology was the appropriate thing to do.

"What causes that?" Jack asked, idly. He let them out of the room, making a mental note to clean up room S-221 before someone stumbled on a sex dungeon. Not that they'd know what it was, probably, or that any of the team would even make it out this far on their own. But better to be prepared. They made their slow way upstairs.

"An excess of power spillage," Castiel answered, "The vessel can't always contain it. When I was less experienced - and when I am unable to control myself - it happens."

"Sounds like that's a good sign then?"

"It's a very good sign," Castiel flashed Jack a smile, "that was what I wanted. All of it." He paused, adding almost shyly, "And I'd like to do it again."

Jack reached into his back pocket for the cuffs and dangled them. "Good. I didn't spend two months on these just to hide 'em in a drawer."

Castiel blinked. "I wasn't aware. Two months?"

"And years of research," Jack added. Castiel's nonplussed silence was almost reward as much as the sex. "You're worth the work, Castiel. Plus," He spun the cuffs on his finger, "they'll make a handy dandy weapon."

"And lure," Castiel said, sliding a finger along the metal.

"And lure," Jack laughed, "right. Now. About a certain _promise_ you made about me freeing you…"

-

Six weeks later, Gwen Cooper slid open the door of S-221. She knew the Silurian communications array was in the 220 block of this level, but the records being what they were, well… it was a bloody nightmare, as always.

The lights came up, revealing a gray concrete room and a gray concrete floor covered in lumpy blobs of melted glass. The only source of color in the room was a massive green - what _was_ that, a control knob? - sitting on the counter a few feet away.

Gwen reached out to it, then froze. 

"Oh. Oh god."


End file.
